


Pride & Prejudice & Yeerks

by syntax_forest



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Canon-Typical Body Horror, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28539378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syntax_forest/pseuds/syntax_forest
Summary: It is a truth universally acknowledged that a Yeerk in its natural state must be in want of a host. After gaining the ability to transform into various animals from a dying Andalite, the Bennet sisters must fend off an alien invasion while maintaining the appearance of Proper Ladies and searching for suitable husbands that aren't being controlled by brain slugs.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 24





	1. The Beginning

My name is Elizabeth, and I unfortunately must be referred to by my Christian name. Giving my family name or location would put my sisters and I in danger. There are terrible forces at work in the world, forces not of God and not of this earth. But I shall return to that in due time. It is a story best told from the beginning. Although I fear that my tale won’t be believed, no matter how I start.

Everything began when Netherfield Park was let at last, which our mother assured us would lead to a suitable marriage for first one, then the remainder of we five sisters, as the house was taken by a single man of large fortune, on Mr. B--. (I cannot in good conscience give the surnames of any principal players in our tale, for fear that our own names should be divined through those of our connections.)

My father had invited this Mr. B-- to dine with us, but our plans were sadly deferred, as our guest had busin/ess in town, but the people of H--shire were assured that he would return to us in time for our ball, surrounded by friends and family who would be joining our assembly. My mother was therefore quite adamant that we appear to the best advantage at this ball, in the hopes that one of us might catch the eye of a newcomer.

Although we had initially heard reports that Mr. B--’s party would be quite large, consisting of twelve ladies and seven men, the group had shrunk to five by the evening of the ball. There were three men and two women--both of them sisters to Mr. B--, and one of them married.

Mr. B-- was a true gentleman, with a pleasant countenance and easy manners that seemed to endear all in the room. His sisters were fashionable women, although I did not speak much to them that night. Mr. B--’s brother-in-law, Mr. H-- appeared a gentleman, but we found his manners somewhat lacking.

The final member of their party, one Mr. D--, who gained the attention of the room easily. He was tall, with striking features, and everyone in H--shire seemed to agree that he was far more handsome than his companion, an opinion perhaps aided by the rumor that the gentleman was in possession of ten thousand a year. But it soon became clear that his manners were abominable, to the point that Mr. B-- could unanimously be considered the superior match, despite his inferior fortune. While Mr. B-- seemed pleased by everyone, pleased by everything, and only displeased by the thought that the ball should be over, Mr. D-- spoke to no one from H--shire through the duration of the ball, and seemed looking for faults in every thing.

That night, I was obliged to sit for two dances, being that there were fewer gentlemen than could be wished--certainly fewer gentlemen than my mother would wish. At that time, I found myself near enough to Mr. D-- to overhear his conversation with Mr. B--, who had come to coax his friend onto the dance floor.

“Come, D--,” said he, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.”

“I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with.”

“I would not be so fastidious as you are,” cried Mr. B--, “for a kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening; and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty.”

“You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” said Mr. D--, which for a moment warmed me to him, as Mr. B-- had been dancing with my elder sister.

“Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.”

“Which do you mean?” And then he turned to look at me where I sat. I attempted to catch his eye as though to say ‘Here I am, ready to dance!’ but he turned away almost immediately.

“She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”

The ball otherwise passed pleasantly enough. My elder sister, Jane, had danced with Mr. B-- twice, and she had become acquainted with his sisters and found them quite charming. My sister Mary had heard her accomplishments praised, and being the plainest of we five she put much importance in perfecting her various accomplishments. The youngest two, Catherine and Lydia, never went without partners, which was enough for them to feel the whole thing a complete success. And I had a story to tell my sisters, for I was more amused by the ordeal with D-- than upset. What was his opinion to me, when everyone in town thought him disagreeable? To be disliked by him was almost a compliment.

We went home by carriage, and my father greeted us, reading a book. He never minds the time when a book is in his hands, a trait I’ve inherited. Of course, my mother had to tell him the whole story of the ball--or the story as she had seen it, at least. My sisters and I were nearly buzzing like a hive full of bees with our eagerness to return to our rooms and speak amongst ourselves, for discussions of balls and dances are more delicious without parents.

When we were all in our nightclothes, I gathered all of my sisters together, for I was most eager to speak and laugh with them of D--’s pompous ways, and even more eager to hear of Jane’s experience with Mr. B--. What had they spoken of as they danced? Did she like him very much?

“Lizzie! It is much too late!” Jane said once we were all sitting together, though she was not truly complaining. Our Jane doesn’t often complain; she is so good-natured. “Can we not wait until morning?”

“I want to speak while everything’s fresh in our memories. I don’t want you forgetting a single detail when I ask about your dances with B--.”

Jane sighed happily, and, had I a light, I am sure I would have seen her face go all shades of pink. “I shall not forget a single detail so long as I live, I think.”

“But truly, Elizabeth” -- this was Mary-- “It is far too late. One must sleep at the proper times to stimulate mental--and, I am sure, moral--fortitude. Early to bed--”

“It’s still early enough!” interjected Lydia, the youngest of our family, so loudly that we chided her and worried that our parents might hear her. “You heard Mr. B-- complaining how early the ball ended! I dare say if we were in London or Bath we would still be dancing, right until dawn.”

“Cities are truly gardens of vice,” said Mary.

I did not wish to hear any of Mary’s lectures that night, so I said to Jane, “But you must tell us all about Mr. B--, every word that he said.”

“You must tell us of your encounter with Mr. D--.”

Our whispering and stifled laughter was interrupted by Kitty, who had taken a spot by the window. Silently, she took first Jane and then myself by our shoulders, shaking us roughly, and I could not fathom my sister’s being so rude until I saw the look of pure terror on her face. Even in the darkness it was unmistakable; my sister appeared as though she had been suddenly submerged in ice water, shocked and trembling.

In a quavering voice she said, “There’s something in the sky.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was struck with the idea of Animorph Austen heroines and I could not rest until it was written. A tiny Yeerk lives in my brain and its only power is compelling me to write about various Bennets turning into horses or whatever.


	2. The Angel

Such was Kitty’s terror that we found ourselves drawn to the window, pressing against one another to have a better view. We saw nothing, at first; Jane and Lydia began to soothe and tease Kitty, respectively, thinking she had perhaps been startled by an owl or shooting star. But then I saw it, high in the sky, higher than anything but the stars and moon had any right to be. There was a shape there, up amongst the stars, glowing with various lights as though it were bedecked by the stars themselves, perhaps as a sort of disguise.

I pointed this out to my sisters.

“But what _is_ it?” Kitty asked, looking at Jane and I as though we should have the answer.

“Perhaps… an angel?” offered Jane.

Lydia pressed a hand to her lips to stifle the laughter that had bubbled out of her. “What would an angel be doing _here?”_

“Mortal men cannot fathom the workings of Heaven,” said Mary, her eyes fixed to the strange shape as its form grew lower in the sky.

“It’s not an _angel,”_ I told them, though in truth I could not think what else it might be.

We all stood and watched the shape, hardly daring to breathe or blink. It was curiously-shaped, its body similar in form to a large, legless scorpion, its tail curving up over its back, culminating in a sort of talon or stinger. On either side, the creature possessed a strange appendage, perhaps something like an arm, although these growths were cylindrical in shape, and I could not imagine what use they might have. Most strangely, the thing did not appear to have wings, and yet it held itself aloft.

I nearly failed to notice the sound of my sister’s feet padding across the floor.

“I am going to see what it is,” Lydia said, leaving the room before we had any chance to reply. As one, we flowed after her, all of us trying to temper Lydia’s impetuosity with reason--well, all but Kitty. But our youngest sister’s steps were resolute as she made for the back door, facing the woods over which the strange being still seemed to hover, although it could barely be seen above the treetops when Lydia opened the door to leave.

“We ought to wake papa. He would know what to do,” said Jane. “Lydia, you _cannot_ go out in nothing but your nightclothes. What would the neighbours think?”

Lydia stepped out of the doorway and whirled around, arms spread. “The neighbours will think nothing because they’re all sleeping. _I_ am going to meet an _angel._ And then they’ll name a holiday for me!”

Jane and Mary seemed to have their reservations, but I hesitated only a moment before stepping out into the night air. The strange shape hanging in the sky called to me in some way; discovering its secrets, I felt, would be worth a few whispers of impropriety. My sisters may have reached the same conclusion, or they may have had their own reasons for coming along. I never did find the time to ask them; we would soon find ourselves with more pressing matters of discussion.

Although the thing was further from the edge of the forest than at first it seemed, it was almost guiding us as we picked our way, shoeless, through the dense underbrush. In the distance we could hear the sounds of snapping branches, and flocks of birds rising as one into the night as the strange form disturbed their rest. Then, as we grew nearer, we could see it by its odd light, which shone forth as though it had stolen the very light from the sun.

It was larger than it had appeared from afar; perhaps large enough to contain a pair of stagecoaches. Its body seemed to be formed from metal, though there were no signs of how it had been fitted together. At its top the thing had been scorched black, with jagged scars torn through it, as though it had been rent by great, fiery claws. Without thinking, my hands found my sisters’, as though I could protect them from such a beast--or from whatever had injured it.

“Is that the angel?” Lydia asked, looking to each of us in turn, her eyes wide. Even my sister, rash and loud though she was, spoke with a hush in her voice.

“It’s not how I imagined them,” said Kitty.

<Do not be frightened.>

It was not a voice that spoke, not something heard with one’s ears. It was akin to the voice heard in one’s own head as one considers things privately, although I was certain that this voice had not originated with my own mind.

“Did you hear that as well?” Jane asked. I nodded.

“It said ‘do not be afraid,’ as the bade the shepherds,” Mary said.

The thing’s front had the shape of an egg, and it was here that the behemoth’s metal side began to split and part, although there had been no visible seams or hinges to suggest a doorway there. Neither did the surface crack like an egg’s shell, or make any discernible noise. The movement was as smooth as the parting of clouds, or, perhaps, the opening of an eye, as the crescent of light from behind the metallic exterior grew wider.

It was then that we saw our angel.

He was not what one might expect of an angel, although I’d understood by this point that everything surrounding what we’d deemed ‘an angel’ would be beyond imagination, perhaps beyond comprehension. Our angel resembled, in form, a Grecian centaur, although the lower half more resembled a deer than a horse, if the deer were blue and possessing a long tail with a sort of blade growing from its end. The torso was likewise blue but otherwise analogous to a man’s, until he emerged from his extraordinary vehicle and his head came into view.

His eyes were a bright, unearthly green, and above them stood a pair of secondary eyes, much like the protrusions of a snail. Beneath the eyes, the creature had a sort of nose comprised of three vertical slits, and beneath that he lacked a mouth entirely. But despite this appearance, I felt sure, somehow, that this creature was a friend.

“Good evening,” said Jane, offering as much of a curtsy as could be made, given her situation and state of dress.

<Hello,> the creature said silently.

Kitty and Lydia tittered amongst themselves, and none of us thought to scold them into proper behavior, as none of us quite knew what the proper behavior in this instance might be. Although I was certain that our mamma’s nerves would be quite destroyed if she knew we were speaking to blue men out in the woods without being properly introduced.

The stranger’s equine legs then buckled beneath him, and he toppled from his doorway, landing in a heap as we surged forward to offer whatever aid we could.

“You’re injured!” Jane exclaimed, marking a large area on the creature’s side which appeared badly burned. “We could--Kitty, run to the house. Send for the doctor.”

<There is no need for that,> the stranger told us, gazing up from the forest floor. <My wound is fatal. I will die.>

“No,” I said, pressing my lips together and kneeling to inspect the wound, although I knew little of tending to wounds. “I refuse. You cannot come to our neighborhood in some strange device that flies through the air, making no introductions and dying straightaway. It’s very inconsiderate. I won’t allow it.”

Even with no mouth, the stranger seemed to smile up at me. <It’s a shame we had to meet like this. I think I would have liked to get to know you. But there’s no time. You cannot be here when they arrive.>

“Who do you mean?” Mary asked. “Are there others like you?”

He cried out then in silent agony. If such sounds are heartrending when heard by the ears, they are infinitely more so when felt directly inside oneself. I could feel the pain of his death, as though it were a knife in my own heart.

<They are not like me,> he told us. <They are different.>

“How so?”

<They come to destroy you.>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's nothing in the text of Pride and Prejudice to prove that this didn't happen. Austen just left out the parts with the aliens because it wasn't the story she wanted to tell.


	3. The Threat

Our alarm at his assertion cannot be overstated. Strange beings come to destroy us, and we standing in nothing but our nightdresses!

<They are called Yeerks. They are not like me. Many are here already. Hundreds, or perhaps more.>

“And when you say ‘you’...” I began, although ‘say’ wasn’t quite the right word for how he was communicating.

<They will destroy all of your people; rather, they will use the bodies on this planet for their own gain. They live within other species. They…>

Already what he told us seemed beyond the reach of words, beyond the reach of comprehension. He must have found language--even his strange form of transmitting it--lacking, for when he closed his eyes, straining with concentration, the image of an unpleasant-looking creature appeared in my mind unbidden. It was a greyish sort of green, its body shapeless and shining with slime.

“So we’re going to be destroyed by garden slugs?” Lydia asked, a touch of mockery in her tone.

The being smiled then, with his eyes, although there was pain there as well. <They’re nearly powerless alone. They are parasites. The Yeerks require a host; they crawl into the brain. Then they can control the body and learn all of the host’s thoughts and feelings. In this form they are known as controllers. They prefer hosts that accept them willingly. Otherwise the host might resist, if only a little bit.>

Kitty took a step nearer to me and clutched my forearm.

“Perhaps we should… find someone to help us...“ Jane said, although it was impossible to think how we might even begin to explain the dire situation.

The creature continued on, the barrage of his thoughts entering our own more quickly, as though he were cognizant of just how much time was left for him. He spoke of bugs and domes and blades, of some sort of battle that I could not begin to comprehend, but it was clear from his look and his tone that his army, our protectors, had lost. And this loss had been definitive.

<They have tracked me here,> he finished, <and they will soon be here to eliminate all trace of me and my ship.>

“They can’t!” Kitty burst forth. “No one will believe us if we haven’t anything to show them!”

<I suspect that is why they need to eliminate me. I’ve sent a message to my homeworld. We Andalites fight the Yeerks wherever they go in the universe. My people will send help, but it may take a year or more for them to get here. By then, the Yeerks will have control of the planet. Then there will be no hope. You must tell your people. You must warn them.>

Pain ripped through us, his pain, and it was clear that his time with us was short.

“Kitty’s right, though,” I said. “They’ll put us in an asylum if we start speaking of slugs living in brains. Could we…” There was no way that we could lift the creature--Andalite--even with five of us, and I didn’t much like the thought of dragging him dead through the woods. “Is there perhaps something on your ship we could bring with us? As proof?”

His eyes brightened. <Perhaps… Go into my ship. There is a small, blue box. Very plain. Bring it to me. Go quickly. There is little time, and the Yeerks are fast approaching.>

Although Jane is the eldest, she wasn’t one to often take the lead, and beyond that she possessed the most comforting presence; it would be a cruelty to draw her away from the Andalite in his dying moments. And so I was the one to walk towards the opening of the Andalite’s great metal shell, a ‘ship’ that resembled no ship known to England, a ship that sailed through the stars rather than the sea.

The appearance of this ship’s interior was just as strange as that of its captain; there was little in the way of furniture, and not a single place where one might sit. All the room and its contents were of one colour, that of undyed linen, and everything was much like the ship’s exterior, with no visible hinges or joints, and no straight edges or lines to be seen.

I found the blue box easily enough, as it was the only bit of color in the room. It fit easily in one’s palm, but its weight far exceeded expectations for such a small object. I clutched the thing to my chest, and then noticed, beside where the box had been, a light shining up from the surface. In the light there stood four Andalites in miniature, suspended in the air and unmoving. His young, I thought.

I reached for them, intent on bringing them away from the ship that would soon be destroyed. He was dying; I thought that his family ought to be with him. But when I tried to take hold of one--gently, so as not to harm the poor thing--my hand passed straight through it, its shape dissipating like smoke in the wind before reforming, appearing as though nothing had happened. I recoiled.

Ghosts. Or--I knew not what.

My sisters were waiting as I returned to the clearing, and presented the blue box to the Andalite. 

<Thank you,> he thought, taking the box from my hands. He had a great number of fingers. <This may be able to help you fight the Yeerks.>

 _“Fight?”_ Jane asked.

<I know that you are young. I know you have no power to resist the Yeerks. But I may be able to give you some small powers against them. It is a power that no human being has ever had.>

“What… power… do you intend to give us?” I asked. I pictured myself calling forth lightning against the hideous slugs, or plagues. It was a strange image, but far less strange than reality.

<This is a piece of Andalite technology the Yeerks do not have,> he explained. <The power _morph._ We have never before shared this power, but you will need it to hold back the invasion.>

“What does… morph… mean?”

<You will be able to change your bodies. Become any species, any animal. You need only to touch a creature to acquire its…>

For a moment, the image of a sort of ladder twisting around itself appeared in my mind, but disappeared as the Andalite shook his head. 

<No time to explain that now. Once you’ve touched a creature with the intent to take its form as your own, you will be able to become that creature. It may be upsetting to you, or unpleasant, but you must remain strong in your convictions. There are limitations. Dangers. But time runs short. You must learn on your own. Do you wish to take this power?>

Jane looked to me, imploring. “We cannot… _fight,”_ she said. “We must find matches before… our home is _entailed…_ ” She wrung her hands. “We haven’t even a proper _education,_ Elizabeth, there must be someone more suitable.”

Her desperation told me that she could already read my answer in my features.

“We must fight,” Mary said, surprising us all. “Whether or not he is an angel, God set us on this path for a reason. Was David prepared to slay Goliath? But he was called, and did what was needed of him. And we will do the same.”

We looked to Kitty and Lydia. Lydia grinned, although her eyes were not so carefree. She seemed not to want to look at us directly, and Kitty’s eyes had turned toward the sky as she struggled to remain composed.

“It would be great fun to spy on people, and perhaps see which men might fancy you. And none of us shall get married at _all_ if all the men are taken over with slugs.”

So it was decided.

“Look,” Kitty said, drawing our attention upward. Though it was difficult to see through the trees, a pair of red lights could just be made out, streaking through the air. “Are they Andalites?”

<No. They’re Yeerks.> The coldness of his hatred seemed to seep into my very heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Half of this fic is checking what science they had back then and the other half is trying to catch all the words that wouldn't have existed back in like 1812.


	4. The Enemy

<There is no more time. Each of you, press a hand to one of the sides.>

I looked at each of my sisters. My kind sister Jane, our studious Mary, bold and fearless Lydia. And Kitty, almost afraid to stand on her own. We would have to take care of one another. The world, it seemed, was more dangerous and more wondrous than we could have ever dreamed.

The others all seemed to wait for me, even as the red lights above us grew ever-nearer. I nodded, placing my hand on one side of the blue box. My sisters followed suit. On the sixth side our Andalite placed his own hand, much larger than our own.

<Do not be afraid,> he told us.

A strange feeling passed through us, like the sensation of feeling a breath at the back of one’s neck. As though butterflies were fluttering through every extremity.

<Go now,> the Andalite ordered. <But remember this: Never remain in animal form for more than two of your Earth’s hours. Never! You will be trapped in that form, unable to regain your own shape. This is the greatest danger of morphing.>

I felt a seeping cold fear at this revelation, although the emotion may have come from the Andalite; although the eyes on his face were pointing toward us, his other eyes gazed up toward the stars. We’d felt pain from him, and kindness, and hatred for the Yeerks, but even on death’s threshold he had shown no fear until now.

<Visser Three is coming.>

“What is… what does that mean?”

<Go now! He is the most deadly of your enemies. Visser Three is the only Yeerk possessing the ability to morph. Run.>

“This is madness,” I said to myself.

Jane looked at me, pleading. “There must be some way to help him.”

<No. You hold your planet’s fate in your hands; you must escape to fight another day. The Yeerks are here; there is nothing more to be done.>

The red lights were nearly upon us, joined by a third shape in the sky. This third form gave off no light, but could be seen by its shadow blotting out the stars, a great axe flying through the air to destroy us.

“Come on then,” I said, failing to conceal the waver in my voice. I took the nearest hand to mine--Mary’s--and tried to pull my sisters away as quickly as I could. “And thank you,” I told the Andalite. He had been so kind to help us; throwing that away would be the height of ingratitude. Even my thanks seemed ungracious, so small against the enormity of his gift.

I tried to make certain that all of my sisters were following as I stumbled through the underbrush, skirts snagging as I went. Only Jane remained with the Andalite. Dear, kind Jane. She would give you her last piece of bread, were she starving, and she would smile while doing it. The Andalite placed a hand to her forehead, and, although he did not move, it was as though he pushed her physically. She staggered backward and then darted after us, away from the lights cast by the strange Yeerk ships.

A root caught me by the ankle, sending me crashing down to the dirt. Mary helped me to pull myself from the lights of the ships, which had the eerie effect of turning the night in the clearing into a bloodred day, and stretching each shadow to unnatural proportions. We all crouched behind some bushes, beyond the reach of the strange lights.

“We’ll draw their attention if we keep moving,” Mary explained.

The two smaller ships landed, appearing as enormous silver beetles. It was difficult to tell from a distance, but they appeared about the size of a carriage. The third ship was much bigger, too large to properly fit in the clearing. It at first appeared that it might become tangled in the branches of the trees, or perhaps that it would crush the trees beneath it, snapping them as though they were nothing but twigs. Instead, the plants below the ship simply… vanished, leaving only ash where they once had been.

A ‘door’ similar to that on the Andalite’s ship opened once the battleaxe-ship landed, and a number of bizarre creatures stepped from the light, so terrifying that it was difficult not to scream. Strange lizard-man creatures, standing on great clawed feet, with a neck like a snake’s and the cruel, curved beak of a hawk. Knifelike horns protruded from each part of the creatures--their limbs, their tails, and even their heads.

<Hork-Bajir-Controllers,> the Andalite told us, his words faint with distance. <They are a good people, despite their fearsome looks. But they have been enslaved by the Yeerks. They are to be pitied.>

From behind the Hork-Bajir came a more horrifying creature, like an enormous maggot with more legs than could be counted. It slithered along yet held its uppermost region upright, its face consisting of four bulbous red eyes and a circular mouth full of sharp teeth.

<Taxxon-Controllers,> said the Andalite. <The Taxxons are evil.>

More Taxxons and Hork-Bajir emerged, standing in formation around the Andalite’s ship with military precision. Though they all carried weapons on their bodies or in their mouths, each held an object like a pistol as well. It all seemed a bit excessive; they could kill us quite easily without the guns.

And it seemed as though they would do so presently; a Hork-Bajir stood near enough to our hiding-place that I could have touched his foot, had I wanted. I wanted to do this almost as little as I had wanted to dance with Mr. D-- earlier that night.

<You must be silent,> the Andalite warned us. <The Hork-Bajir cannot see well in darkness, but they have excellent hearing.>

I promised myself then that I would do whatever Mary might want of me for as long as I lived, for if we had continued stumbling through the forest I think my life might have been very short indeed. I would listen to a thousand lectures on pride and vanity, or however long she might wish to sit at the piano, anything at all.

The Hork-Bajir moved away from us, its great claws tearing gashes in the earth. All of the creatures--the Controllers--had turned their attention back toward the ship, from which something else was emerging. They were all deathly silent, out of fear or respect, or some mixture of both.

<Visser Three.>

Visser Three was an Andalite.

<There is only one Andalite-Controller,> the Andalite--our Andalite--informed us. <That is Visser Three.>

The Andalite-Controller strode toward our friend, radiating a sense of smugness and self-satisfaction that would have made Mr. D-- appear downright amiable in comparison. He moved with slow, deliberate steps, as though savoring each moment of his foe’s downfall. His army stood with bated breath, eager to see what their leader would do.

And then Kitty coughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kitty does so ill-time her coughs.


	5. The Chase

Kitty coughed, and I felt as though we were again at the dance from earlier, at the moment when Mr. B--- and his party stood before the waiting crowd. But this time it was  _ we  _ who were the subject of scrutiny--or, rather, the place where we huddled, hiding--and  _ our  _ reception wouldn’t be so warm.

After perhaps twenty seconds of sympathizing acutely with my mother’s complaints of nerves, I realized that we had not, in fact, been sliced apart by Hork-Bajir blades, and the strange group circling the clearing had not, as a whole, taken much notice of us. Perhaps with so many, it was easy for them to assume another in their group had made the noise. Or perhaps, unfamiliar with the sounds of this world, they believed Kitty’s cough to belong to some form of wildlife.

With the strange ships no longer in the air, the night-creatures in the woods began their soft noises, unaware of the monster among them.

Only the creatures nearest to us--Hork-Bajir--attempted to ascertain the source of the noise. They peered into the darkness, examining the very spot where we were hidden, occasionally offering furtive glances back toward their Visser Three, as though unsure where they ought to have their attention. 

<The Hork-Bajir cannot see you,> our andalite assured us, calming us. <Their vision is terrible in the darkness. But they have very good hearing, so you must remain silent.>

If the mind-voice of our friend could soothe and calm, that of second Andalite--or, rather, Andalite-controller--had the opposite effect.

<And what do we have here? An Andalite warrior?> His gaze travelled over the hull of the Andalite’s ship. <But not just any Andalite. Prince Elfangor-Sirinial-Shamtul? An honor to meet you. You’ve made a reputation for yourself… as well as a not-insignificant dent in my fleet of Bug fighters. But it seems I no longer need to worry about that.>

To think we’d met with a prince in our nightdresses. That would worry our mother more than the bit about centaurs and slugs from space.

<The very last Andalite in this sector,> the Visser continued. <Your Dome ship was destroyed completely. It burned as it fell through this planet’s atmosphere.>

Our Andalite--Prince Elfangor--then pulled himself to his feet--hooves, to face the Visser, meeting him eye to eye, although it was apparent that the effort pained him greatly. Whether this show of strength and bravery was meant to taunt his enemies or to reassure us--or himself--I could not tell.

<Others will come.>

<And no matter how quickly they travel, they will arrive far too late to stop us. This world will be my contribution to the Yeerk empire. Our greatest conquest. Even with their wars and their pitiful medicines, the beings on this planet have amassed a population of one billion. Existing as our hosts, they become an endless source of new bodies. Billions of us, spreading throughout the galaxy. With me to lead them as Visser  _ One.> _

<And then,> he continued, his mind-voice like ice running down one’s spine, <We will overtake the Andalite homeworld, and I will personally hunt down your family. I hope their minds scream as my most trusted lieutenants are placed in their heads.>

The Prince’s tail moved as a blur, lashing out, causing a few of us to cry out in alarm, though the attack had caused enough noise and confusion that none seemed to pay us any mind. An agonizing sound permeated our minds as the Visser put a hand to his shoulder to staunch the flow of blood--although its colour was wrong.

<Hold him still,> the Visser commanded, mind-voice seething with rage. A pair of the scaly, spine-covered creatures came to Prince Elfangor, one on either side, and took hold of him with brutish strength, their blades to his throat.

“Look away,” Jane bade us. “All of you, look away. This is not for you to see.”

“Jane--”

“He is dying, and he is alone, and if his family comes to find him we ought to tell them… tell them what happened. I am the eldest and… I am not letting him die alone.”

“Jane,” I repeated. “That will kill you.”

“It would kill me to know we left him--even if we can’t do anything…”

Our disagreement was interrupted by a change in the clearing--or, more accurately, a change in the Visser. His head began to grow larger, bulbous, as the body beneath it grew thicker. The legs grew until the began to press against one another, and then merged, four becoming two. Tentacles like that of an octopus sprouted from his arms. A fissure tore across the Visser’s blank face, emerging as a cruel sneer filled with fangs, now large enough to swallow a man whole, if he wished.

One of us, perhaps more, began to shriek.

This time, there was no mistaking the sounds. The creatures standing at attention around the clearing and--humans, there were  _ humans-- _ all turned to our direction even as the Visser continued to grow and shift, his form emitting crunches and gurgling enough to turn the stomach. The Taxxons slithered forward, like hunting hounds eager to be unleashed.

<I’ll distract them. Run,> our Andalite told us.

I took my sister’s arm so tightly I thought it might bruise her. “Jane,” I said. “You must make sure they make it home safely. But we cannot lead them back to L---.”

“What are you--”

<It seems we have an audience,> announced Visser Three. Even knowing where we hid, the monsters turned to face their leader as he spoke, as though by instinct, giving my sisters a moment to begin creeping towards home. I noticed that Lydia still stood beside me, poised to run. We were, perhaps, more alike than I might like to admit.

Our Andalite had begun struggling, lashing out against his captors with his tail, but his distraction was not enough to prevent the bulk of the group from turning on us when Visser Three commanded, <Capture them. Kill them.>

I took off running, deeper into the woods, making as much sound as I could to draw attention away from my sisters. I heard the pounding feet of the Hork-Bajir and the skittering steps of the Taxxons, and somewhere in the distance was Lydia, taunting the beasts. We’d gone off in opposite directions, dividing our pursuers between us. I had many times before that moment wished to be rid of my youngest sister, but at that moment my greatest hope was that nothing would happen to her.

It was very likely that the Hork-Bajir were faster than I, but they were larger, ungainly, and the Andalite had said their ability to see in the darkness was poor. I forced myself to move wherever the trees grew denser, blocking out the moonlight, particularly after I stumbled and one of the creatures shot at me, a red light bursting from its pistol. The light hit the trunk of a tree, and in that place the tree was--gone. Converted to air.

They did not need to catch me to kill me.

Deeper I went, hoping to God that my sisters had escaped safely, and seeing no way that I could do the same. The creatures were not so close behind me, impeded as they were by the undergrowth, but I could still hear them behind me, crashing through the trees and speaking some mixture of their own language and English.

The forest, unfortunately, slowed my own movement as well, and the night dimmed my vision nearly as much as a Hork-Bajir’s. I found myself tumbling headfirst over what turned out to be a fallen tree, the sound alerting my searchers. They knew now precisely where I was in the darkness. I crawled along the ground, too tired to stand. I could not run forever, and I thought, at least, that sitting beside the log might offer some shelter. Perhaps they would overlook me.

It was hollow, the hole large enough to fit inside. Paying no mind to how it tore at my skirts, I pulled myself inside just as the creatures reached me. I dared not breathe as I heard the scrape of talons just above my head. The Hork-Bajir said something in its own language, and another voice responded. A human voice, although I couldn’t place it.

“No need to capture them. Kill whoever you find. Just bring me the head so we can identify it.” A light swept over the entrance to the log, and then a shadow. I pulled myself as far into my hiding place as I could. To think that my greatest concern a few hours before had been some man being rude at a dance.

“Come along,” the human said. “They can’t have gotten far.”

I listened as they moved away, the light sweeping along the ground as they searched for me. Once the light faded completely, and I was sure they were too far to hear, I ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mrs. Bennet would totally try to marry Lizzie off to an Andalite *Prince* if she could. (Jane's already going to marry Mr. B-- obviously.)


End file.
